


Out of the Underworld, Into the Fire

by SpaceKase



Series: Kinktober 2020 [21]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Penis Size, Size Difference, Size Kink, Wall Sex, but only a mention - Freeform, there's also mention of Female Lone Wanderer/Nova
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27200102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceKase/pseuds/SpaceKase
Summary: How an affair continued after fifteen years.Written for Kinktober 2020.Day 21:Size difference| Exhibitionism/voyeurism | Impact play
Relationships: Gob/Charon (Fallout)
Series: Kinktober 2020 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955086
Kudos: 15
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	Out of the Underworld, Into the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, Gob x Charon. Rarepair Hell. Hello darkness, my old friend...
> 
> I apologize; I have no idea how to tag appropriately for Charon's whole situation.

The first time Charon sees him, the kid hasn't even fully turned yet. He's still got most of his flesh and hair, but his nose is missing. That's usually the first thing to go. The poor kid is trembling like skinny twigs on a dead tree; how he managed to even get here, Charon has no idea. 

He does nothing; being Ahzrukhal's bodyguard ensures that he's never too far away from him at any given time, but far enough away to see everything that goes on in the Underworld. He sees Carol from Carol's Place be the first to greet him with open arms. Fortunate, he secretly thinks; she's the friendliest one here and the kid looks like he's about to cry. 

That night, when Ahrukhal and most of the other ghouls have gone to sleep, Charon heads down to the bathroom. On one of the cots lies the kid, curled up on his side, sobbing into his hands. The flesh has started peeling from his forearms, revealing angry red muscle. Carol sits in front of him, murmuring sweet nothings as she runs her fingers through his hair. Already clumps of short brown hair are starting to come out; evidently the pain and nausea is enough to make him not notice.

Uncertain of what possesses him to do so, Charon crouches behind him and places a hand on his shoulder. 

The kid jumps at the contact, and stops his violent shaking long enough to look over his shoulder. This close, eyes wide and frightened and filled with tears, he looks even younger, like he just reached his twenties. They stare at each other for a while before the kid curls back in on himself. Carol looks like she wants to say something, but doesn't. Unsure of what else to do, Charon gets up and heads back to his post.

For the next few years, he continues to keep an eye and ear out. Ghouls come and go; mutants come and go. Even the occasional human comes and goes. Usually humans turning or recently turned into ghouls looking for help and acceptance. 

Of them all, though, Charon can't keep his attention away from the kid. He goes by Gob, Charon hears. Which makes sense; he's got a tendency to start talking a lot when he's nervous. And he's nervous most of the time. Not that Charon can blame him. 

It's a good thing Carol took him under her wing. Her friendly, nurturing, vivacious demeanor keeps him calm and protected; everyone who knows Carol knows him. Word around Underworld was that her wife Greta is jealous of him, but Charon doesn't agree. The other woman is brusque with a harsh, no-nonsense temperament, but he can tell from here that she's fallen in love with Gob, too. 

It's about six years before they officially meet. Charon is cleaning his gun when Gob steps into The Ninth Circle. As their eyes meet, Charon puts his gun back together and stands up in one fell swoop. He towers over Gob. No surprise; the only ones he's never towered over have been supermutants. But it does seem to come as a surprise to Gob, who takes a step back. 

Of course. Charon knows all about him, but he knows nothing about Charon. 

"Talk to Ahzrukhal." That's what he always says to whoever enters the Ninth Circle and approaches him. 

Gob nods and quickly scurries over to the bar. He overhears him timidly order a rum and Nuka. Why he isn't making any orders at his adoptive moms' place, Charon isn't sure, and doesn't ask.

"Hey." Gob's come back, drink in hand. 

"Hello." This is strange. People usually find Charon intimidating. He isn't used to conversation with anyone other than Ahzrukhal.

Gob's shifting his feet, looking anywhere but at him. "What's your name?" Before Charon can answer, the kid starts talking. "It's just...I know everybody else here. But not you. Not the people who usually come...here." Gob is tapping his fingertips against his glass, obviously nervous. "It's my break, so I figured I'd come see this place. I got curious. You know?" 

"I see." It sounds like Gob's mothers have told him to stay away from this place. Good for them, he thinks. "Charon."

"Huh?" It looks like the kid's heard him, but just wants to make sure. 

"My name is Charon. Like the Hades ferryman." Like many ghouls, he's since lost track of time; it's easy to do that when sickness and old age can no longer kill you. So, to keep things interesting, he changes his name once every few decades or so. Why not choose one that fits into the aesthetic of where he's living?

He tries not to dwell on the fact that it's one of the few things he's actually got a choice about. There's nothing he can do about it, after all.

"I like it." Looking like he's afraid to open his mouth for fear of what words might mindlessly come out, Gob takes a long gulp of his drink. Charon is almost tempted to wince; if the kid's a lightweight, that might not do him well. "Well, uh...n-nice meeting you." As quickly as he came, Gob is gone. Charon doesn't bother telling him to come back, since he took one of the Ninth Circle's glasses with him.

This is the first time this happens, but far from the last. They're few and far between, at first; Gob will deliberately come up to him once every other week to make small talk. Mostly, he's the small one doing all the talking; Charon responds in phrases or single words. 

He actually doesn't mean to be unfriendly; it's how it's always been for him. His employers have always relied on his actions, not his words. 

As Gob's visits get more and more frequent, Charon comes to a startling realization...

These visits are the highlights of his long days. The only thing that makes him even think about smiling is seeing that skittish young ghoul approaching him, ready to ramble on about everything and nothing.

The day Gob shyly admits to him "I remembered you. From my first day here. I never forgot, and just...I don't know. Wanted to find a way to thank you?" tells Charon all he needs to know. Late that night, in the hallway that connects The Ninth Circle and Carol's Place, with every other ghoul asleep or out of sight, Charon leans down to kiss him. 

At first he thinks it's too much, too soon. He knows Gob is easily frightened; the poor kid is scared of his own shadow. If he didn't run off, Charon would be surprised.

But he doesn't. He freezes for a moment, clearly not expecting this, but then stands on his toes to try to meet him better. 

Charon is six feet, eight inches; Gob is five feet, seven inches. One chooses to work at a hotel across the hall from a bar; the other has no choice. 

They were always going to have to meet in the somewhere in the middle for this to work.

And Charon will be damned if he's not going to try. 

It's a fortunate thing that his contract comes with many loopholes. The main one is that he isn't required to follow any non-violent orders by whoever owns it. Which means that Ahzrukhal can't forbid him from pursuing this. Once Ahzrukhal falls asleep, the night is entirely Charon's. 

With so many residents and so few places to be alone, they learn to be quick. Their affairs grow heated and desperate; stolen, passionate kisses when Ahzrukhal turns his head, firm groping in the hallways with only minutes to spare. 

At one point, they get desperate enough to use an empty stall in a bathroom in Concourse. Charon presses Gob's back to keep the stall door shut, holding one hand firmly over the other man's mouth as he strokes both their dicks with the other. Charon is larger than Gob in most ways, and this one is no different; Gob's erection, more intact than his own, is shorter and thinner around. It does something for Charon, doing something like this with someone so much smaller than him. It makes him feel protective and powerful. 

It gives him control in an aspect of his life he'd never really thought of.

Gob, younger and less experienced than him, comes first, groaning against Charon's palm. Charon doesn't stop his ministrations, and Gob doesn't make any motions that tell him he wants to; he just clutches Charon's shoulders tighter, only letting go when he reaches his own growling, grunting climax. Even after that, Gob wraps his arms around his waist, the only part of him he can reach, not seeming to want to let go.

Charon is willing to oblige. He can't recall anyone ever wanting to cuddle him before, even back when he'd still had skin.

So it continues for the next few months. It's great; it's wonderful. It's the only thing Charon has to look forward to.

But, like all good things, it comes to an end. Charon sees the end coming from about two weeks away. 

He watches it all in Gob. There's a reason he'd come here from, presumably, so far away, and now there's a reason why he keeps leaving for days on end. 

Charon doesn't hear it from the skittish ghoul, himself; he hears it from others who frequent Carol's Place. 'He's getting restless,' he overhears; 'he wants something more.'

Logically, he tells himself they're rumors, nothing more. But it gets harder to tell himself that when Gob doesn't come back for a solid week.

The day he sees Gob scurrying to and fro all over Underworld, gathering essentials like tinned food and bottled water, tells him all he needs to know. He waits for him just outside the entrance to Underworld; Gob almost looks guilty when he shows up with a duffel bag over his shoulder.

"You're leaving, aren't you." Charon says it rather than asks it. Why bother asking the obvious when he obviously knows the answer?

Gob gulps, looking down at his own feet. "Yes." He clutches at the strap of his duffel bag tighter. "There's just...gotta be other stuff out there, you know? I love it here, I'm grateful to all of you, but--"

Charon put a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to justify anything to me." God knows he's often wanted to leave the walls of Underworld. 

Gob nods, glances off to the side, then throws himself at Charon. "I _am_ gonna miss you." His words are muffled against Charon's chest, but he hears them loud and clear. He returns the embrace, trying to commit every detail of his slim figure to memory. Who knows if they'll ever see each other again?

"I will never forget you." He truly won't. Not the first person who's shown kindness to him in literal centuries.

With that, Gob runs off. Charon can only assume he doesn't want him to see him cry.

The Lone Wanderer, a trans Asian girl named Bianca who hasn't even reached her twentieth birthday yet, is a surprise in more than one way. 

Charon isn't going to complain, though. Her buying his contract lets him finally put a bullet in that bastard Ahzrukhal's face. It finally gets him out of Underworld.

Their trek through the Capital Wasteland ends in a trip to Megaton, a tiny town built out of airplane parts. It's cozy; Charon likes it. Even if he doesn't understand the girl's taste in decor; the heart-shaped bed looks big enough to fit two, but the hanging light fixture is a bit much.

"It's not a permanent decision," she assures him. "I'm going through all of Moira's decoration options." 

Charon suspects she thinks it's funny. He doesn't say so, though. Let the kid have a sense of humor; whatever brings her joy in this lawless wasteland.

After they meet with the other residents of the town, they make their way to the local watering hole, a shitty-looking place called Moriarty's Saloon.

There he is. The same brown hair, the same milky blue eyes, even the same grey t-shirt he'd been wearing when he left a decade and a half ago.

Gob lifts his head at the sound of their arrival, and their gaze meets. Time seems to stand still around Charon. 

Then Gob bumps into the bar he's working at, dropping the glass he's cleaning. The sound of shattering glass is enough to break the reverie. Poor Gob flinches at the sound; as Charon and Bianca rush towards him to see if he's all right, a man barges from the backroom. The titular Moriarty, Charon assumes; the man gives off the same vibes that Ahzrukhal did, which makes him instinctively grit his teeth.

His suspicions are confirmed when the man yells at Gob. Spittle flies into the ghoul's face; Gob shrinks in on himself, trying to make himself even smaller.

Charon is already on edge. But then Moriarty raises a hand against Gob, and he sees red. Without thinking, he catches the fist in his hand, squeezing his fingers around tight enough to cause pain. Moriarty pales as he stares up at the nearly seven-foot-tall, muscular, very pissed off ghoul.

Charon doesn't usually like to throw his weight around to get his way, but this time, he'll gladly make an exception. "Don't touch him," he growls.

"A-and who do you think you are?" The words are indignant, but the tone of voice is faltering and weak. This Moriarty is clearly frightened of him.

 _Good._ Charon continues squeezing the fist, making the man buckle down. "You should leave." He'll kill this bastard later; poor Gob looks terrified enough, as it is.

The minute he lets go, Moriarty runs into his backroom like a radroach scrambling into the shadows. Bianca and the bar's other patrons are still here, wide-eyed onlookers, but as far as Charon is concerned it's just him and Gob.

He strides behind the bar, in a hurry. "Charon...I..." Gob is fidgeting in that endearingly nervous way of his. "I was...I can explain..."

Once he's close enough, Charon wraps his arms firmly around Gob's waist. Holds him tight, lifts him straight off his feet. "Fifteen years," he utters in Gob's ear. "That's how long it's been. We thought you were dead." He'd been keeping track, despite how mad it had driven him.

"I..." Gob seems to crumble in his arms. He doesn't return the embrace; instead he grabs the collar of Charon's leather armor, holding on for dear life. "I missed you...I can't believe you're here..."

They stay that way for a long time, only ending when Bianca clears her throat. "So, uh...you two know each other." 

The moment effectively killed, the three of them sit at a table in the bar. There, Gob tells her the whole story. Charon says nothing, content to listen to Gob's voice again. He can't believe how much he'd missed the other ghoul's babbling. Wanting to touch Gob again after fifteen lonely years, he keeps his hand on his upper thigh, hidden beneath the table. Gob says nothing about it, but nudges Charon's outer thigh with his knee.

After he tells her about them, Gob gets to the part that Charon has been wondering about for fifteen years. After he left Underworld, he apparently was captured by slavers. Moriarty bought him, and has kept him here as a source of free labor ever since. 

Bianca had been horrified at Charon's situation, outright calling him a slave. She seems uncomfortable even holding his contract, only doing so to get him away from Ahzrukhal. Charon isn't sure he agrees; his situation is what it is. Always has been.

But the idea of someone doing that to poor, sweet Gob? 

Charon sees red again, squeezing Gob's knee in order to keep himself from doing something he might later regret.

"Jeez, Gob," says Bianca. She pats the ghoul's hand sympathetically. "I'm so sorry. But hey; what are the odds of me bringing him here?" She smiles as she looks between the two of them. 

"Indeed." Charon moves his hand, taking Gob's in it. Yet again, Charon marvels at the size difference; his hand is bigger than Gob's.

Gob smiles up at him. The muscles in his face make it look like he isn't used to it. "Thanks for bringin' 'im back to me, Bianca." 

Charon's opinion of Bianca rises. She didn't just save him from Ahzrukhal; she was nice to Gob, too.

"Say, you mind if I borrow Charon again?"

Gob's smile falters. "But..."

Bianca grins at him. She doesn't try to hide her vault upbringing; even without the blue jumpsuit, her teeth are way too white and straight, proof of great dental care. "Don't worry, Gobby; I'll bring him right back."

With that, she gets up, gripping Charon's forearm with her even tinier hand. He rises and goes with her, although somewhat reluctantly. 

Just outside of the bar, Bianca presses something into his hand. "My house key," she tells him. "Something tells me you and Gob have some catching up to do, and I don't think this place..." she motioned behind her at the obnoxious sign with her thumb, "is the right place to do it."

"Thank you." Charon doesn't smile, but he comes close to it. "But what about you?"

She gives him a meaningful smile. "I've got some catching up of my own to do with the lovely Nova." She pats Charon's arm. "Now go on; you crazy kids go have fun."

The two of them are just barely through the door of the obnoxiously decorated house before Charon is on Gob. He practically slams him against the door, devouring his mouth with his own, holding his hands above his head.

Gob doesn't protest, trying to keep up with the motions of what's left of Charon's lips. He presses his hips forward, and Charon feels the developing bulge beneath the green fabric of Gob's pants.

"Still got that, huh?" Charon pulls away enough to growl.

"Mm-hmm." The sounds come out as a sort of raspy whimper. 

"Good. Got mine, too." He hasn't had much reason to use it ever since Gob left. 

He sinks down the length of Gob's body, working on the laces of his boots with an impatience he hasn't felt in a long time. Then come the socks, then he slides back up, growling with impatience as he fiddles with Gob's fly. He practically rips the pants off of Gob, then pauses, entranced at the sight of his narrow hips in the grey briefs.

"Charon..." Whatever Gob wants to say gets cut off in a groan as Charon opens his mouth, tasting the fabric of his underwear, teasing with only his lips and his warm breath. 

The teasing doesn't last long; they've got time tonight, but he desperately wants more. It's been fifteen years since he's had this. He tugs the briefs down, and is mesmerized yet again. He's seen Gob's cock before, but it's just as beautiful as he remembers it. 

With Gob now half naked and shivering, Charon stands up. "Give me a moment," he growls into what's left of Gob's ear. If the cheesy pornographic theme of the house and Bianca apparently being on first-name terms with the town prostitute can tell him anything, there's probably some lube somewhere in here. 

He winds up finding it in a cabinet in the bedroom. Triumphant, he goes back downstairs, pleased to find that Gob hasn't moved from his spot against the front door. "Good boy," he rumbles just before kissing him again. A shudder runs through Gob's body as Charon uncaps the lube, liberally coating his fingers before kneeling back down. 

Gob is tighter than he remembers. Charon isn't the jealous sort; he won't hold any resentment against Gob if he finds out he's slept with someone else. It's been a long time, and unlike certain sleazy saloon owners, Charon doesn't claim to own him. Still, he gains some perverse pleasure in the idea that no one else has touched him in this particular place since the two of them left off. As he works with his fingers, Charon takes the tip of Gob's cock in his mouth, lightly suckling the tip. 

It doesn't take long to get Gob ready; by the time Charon stands back up, the other ghoul has been reduced to a panting, shivering mess. He lets out a loud yelp as Charon grips him by his narrow hips and lifts him up so that they're finally at eye length. Charon tries not to think about the fact that, while Gob has always been small-boned, he definitely feels lighter than he remembers. Moriarty has been charging him for room and board, on top of working off his debt to him; evidently it isn't much food he's been giving him. 

"All right, you; come on," he says in between kisses to Gob's neck. "Legs up."

Ever obedient, Gob wraps his legs firmly around Charon's waist. A rough whine gets torn from Gob's throat as Charon enters him. 

It's bliss. There really is no other word for it. He closes his eyes as Gob's slick heat engulfs his thick cock. He tries to be slow, not wanting to hurt Gob anymore than the poor man has already been through, but it's tough. Especially as Gob tries to relax those muscles, but they keep clamping down reflexively, massaging Charon's large cock. 

"Doin' okay?" He has to ask. He needs to know if Gob is liking this as much as Charon is. If he doesn't, then they need to stop.

"Yeah," Gob pants. "K-keep going." 

Permission granted, Charon pulls almost all the way out before sliding back in. His fingertips dig into the skin of Gob's hips as he finds his rhythm. Gob's weight is partially gathered around Charon's waist, partially supported by the metal door of the house; it's easier to try this position that Charon would have thought. 

With each thrust, each stroke of that spot Charon knows is inside Gob, each spike of pleasure rising in his cock, Gob clings tighter, digging his heels into the small of Charon's back, wrapping his arms tighter around his neck. At one point he leans forward, burying his head in Charon's shoulder. That one little act is enough to make Charon's heart ache; he's missed this so much. 

"Getting close," he rasps. His thrusting has grown erratic and irregular; he didn't mean to reach it this fast.

"'S okay," gasps Gob. "Go ahead...don't hold back."

Charon does as told, growling as he rides out his orgasm, focusing on holding tighter, keeping the both of them up even as his thighs tremble. Gob squeezes his legs, holding tight enough to hurt, keeping their bodies connected through that special moment.

Within moments, they're both leaned against the door. Gob rubs Charon's back as he pulls out and rests, panting. 

"That was amazing." Charon can tell that Gob is smiling, even though his face is in the crook of his neck. "I forgot how good it was with you." 

"I didn't." Charon kisses Gob's neck, trying to re-memorize how Gob smells. "I missed this."

"Me, too." 

Realizing that Charon is still holding Gob and there's a perfectly good, if tacky, bed a few feet away, he moves. Gob yelps in surprise as Charon carries him to the bed, practically throwing him onto the pink bedspread, giving him a clear view of his neglected erection.

"Your turn." 

It's the start of a beautiful night.

Charon doesn't sleep nights, not even after multiple orgasms. Gob, on the other hand, is thoroughly conked out; in his sleep, he clings to Charon as if he were a large, solid, flayed teddy bear. It warms the heart, knowing that Gob is still a post coital cuddler. Filled with the unfamiliar emotion of affection, Charon kisses the top of Gob's head, on one of the parts where there's still hair. Gob mumbles something in his sleep and nuzzles against one of his exposed pectorals.

The moment is broken as a sharp knock sounds against the door. 

"Hmm...?" Gob is slow to wake up, but once he is, he scrambles out from under the pink velvet covers. "Oh, shit!" 

Charon, ever calm, comes in from behind him and wraps his arms around his bare waist. "Don't worry; I'll handle it." He kisses his cheek. "Go back to bed." 

"I..." Gob relaxes at Charon's touch. It's good to know he still has that effect on him. "Okay." 

With a warm chuckle, Charon gets dressed, calling out "In a minute!" at the sound of another knock.

There's Bianca, looking as satisfied as Charon feels. "Hey! Good night last night?" 

He smirks, folding his arms across his chest. "What do you think?" 

She grins. "Nice! Good for you!" She cleared her throat. "So, uh...I think I'm gonna head out."

Charon raises a hairless eyebrow. "We've only been here for a day..." He hopes the implication is clear. He just got Gob back; he's not quite ready to leave him again.

"I said 'I," Charon. Not 'we.'" She scratches the back of her head. "I've got an idea. While I'm gone, why don't you and Gob take care of my house?" She chuckles a little. "I mean...it's not like anything in it is getting used while I'm gone, right?" 

Charon's eyes widen in understanding. "That's...not a bad idea..."

"Plus, this way, Gob doesn't have to charge for room and board. There's plenty of food in the house, and whenever I'm gone, it just goes uneaten." 

"I see..." 

"And besides, it occurred to me that you two might need more than a night to...catch up. You know?" 

Charon doesn't need to hear anymore. He catches the girl off guard by pulling her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "Thank you."

Once the surprise wears off, she hugs him back, head nestling even lower on his chest than Gob's. "No problem. You two deserve it." Once she pulls away, her smile is gone, replaced by a much more serious expression. "Look, I read over the details of your contract. I know you don't have to do whatever I say so long as it's not violence-related, so consider this a favor." She puts a hand on his shoulder, dark eyes boring into his pale ones. "Take care of him, okay? Treat him well. He's my friend and he's been through a lot, so..."

Charon nods, every bit as serious as she looks. "I will. Don't worry." 

She bounces right back to bubbly and cheerful. "Okay! Have fun!" With that, she turns on her heel and skips away.

With that, Charon goes back into the house and locks the door behind him. There's the first of hopefully many rounds of morning sex to make up for, and if Moriarty doesn't like it, he'll have to answer to him.


End file.
